Rain Delay
by EllipsesBandit
Summary: Every notice how many TezFuji fics take place in the rain? My own version. Fuji's attempts to prove his independence to Tezuka via a camping trip. Rain, fishing, and mosquitoes ensue. Response to Microgirl's challenge.


**_Rain Delay_**

_Author: The Ellipses Bandit..._

_  
Disclaimer: All Konomi's fault, like far too many things in my life._

_**Spoiler Alert**: If you haven't seen the TezFuji 3 parter at the end of the series, you might want to wait to read this._

_Pairings: TezFuji_

_Rating: K+ for shounen-ai fluff_

_Summary: Fuji is determined to prove to Tezuka that he can take care of himself, so he ventures camping with the buchou. Rain, fishing, and mosquitos ensue._

_Author''s Note: Ever notice how many TezFuji angst fics involve the two of them getting stuck in the rain? One or both of them hate the rain and then they meet in the rain and then dry off and ... etc., etc. Always the rain. Microgirl challenged me to write a twist on the trend. Originally a satire, I ended up writing a fair bit of angst to go with. Didn't mean to! Fuji did it! For a quasi-serious piece though, I sure managed enough backstage Tenimyu references (Four all told by the end of the fic. If you catch them ... well it probably means you hang out with me and cheated). Anyway, enjoy, read, review, send complaints to microgirl cuz she dared me. _

_---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Fuji knew he was being childish, silly, and probably more than a little desperate, but none of that mattered. What mattered was that he was not about to lose ... again.

"Fuji," Tezuka stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

_Smile. Just smile. _"Of course." _Keep smiling._

Tezuka frowned, then walked back towards his teammate.

"Ne, Tezuka, I said I'm fine--"

"Turn."

The tensai sighed, turning so Tezuka could unzip Fuji's backpack, removing some of the more awkwardly shaped items and placing them in his own. This camping trip was simply not going as planned.

"You are not permitted to injure yourself before Nationals." Tezuka rezipped the bag.

Fuji quirked an eyebrow. "This lecture from you?"

"Yes." Tezuka started up the path again. For a moment, Fuji watched him go, not showing for a second that he now carried part of Fuji's burden as well as his own. Damn it. More counterproductivity. And to top everything off, Tezuka was right: the backpack no longer pulled dangerously against his collarbone. He stomped forward, wincing as he remembered that the hiking boots he'd spent his allowance on had not been completely broken in. Tezuka would notice if blisters or anything else hindered his tennis. Fuji's tennis seemed to be all Tezuka ever noticed.

Fuji shook the hair out of his eyes. Nevermind. Tezuka did invite him camping; Fuji could still prove himself. Besides, the campsite couldn't be that much further or Tezuka's father wouldn't let them go alone ...right? He could make it.

And then it started to rain.

It began as light drops that did little more than occasionally hit Fuji in the eye. Gradually, the pace built till water weighed down Fuji's bangs, blocking most of his vision unless he continually swiped them away. After about ten minutes, the path became a treacherous mud-skating rink and moisture started to soak through Fuji's jacket.

"Left side pocket," Tezuka said, stopping on the side of the path and reaching into his own bag.

Of course, Tezuka had prepared for this scenario. Tezuka prepared for everything. Opening the pocket, Fuji pulled out a tightly rolled piece of yellow plastic. No, just no. "You want me to wear this?"

"It's better than getting soaked." Tezuka pulled his own poncho over his head, though his was clear and thus didn't make him look like a monstrous marshmallow chicken. The extended glance Tezuka spared him as Fuji put the plastic thing on only confirmed his suspicions.

"Don't laugh at me," Fuji warned.

"I don't laugh." Considerably foggy glasses prevented Fuji from seeing if the buchou was lying. He probably hadn't wiped them off just so Fuji couldn't read him. "You look fine."

Fuji shrugged, trudging through the path again and trying to pretend that he hadn't needed to hear that. "Is it much farther?" Every footstep now squelched in the muck.

"Just over this rise." Tezuka steadied himself on a tree, effortlessly scaling the small hill in the path. Never faltering or slipping. Tezuka moved beautifully, and that made Fuji just the tiniest bit angrier. An anger which flared a more as Tezuka turned from the top and offered his hand to Fuji.

"I can make it," the tensai rushed. He had to stop expecting Tezuka to turn around and help him. He had to stop needing Tezuka's help. If Tezuka wanted to date some hapless damsel in distress, he had his pick of them at school. Fuji was _not _a damsel. And he could climb a four foot hill by himself.

He copied Tezuka's move, balancing his weight on the tree and managing to make it a good three steps up before the rock slipped out from under his foot and he started to slide. Tennis reflexes kicked in as he worked out where to throw his weight to avoid injury, just as Tezuka's hand locked onto his wrist, suspending him in mid-fall. Fuji's mind reeled at Tezuka's speed; he must have been waiting for him to fall. There was that anger again: a white-hot flicker somewhere below his sternum.

Tezuka didn't ask if he was okay, just helped him up the remaining foot of hill. The hood of the buchou's poncho had slipped off, rain sticking the sides of his hair to his head in a helmet shape Fuji would normally find adorable. Now it just made him wonder how his own hair would look when he took the stupid yellow bag off. "The campsite's just over here," Tezuka announced. "Hopefully it's still dry enough to get the stakes in the ground. I'll need your help."

Tezuka needing his help; that was more like it. Fuji smiled a little more naturally and nodded.

He didn't realize helping Tezuka meant holding the pole upright while Tezuka pounded stakes into the ground and deftly tied a series of intricate knots. Great. He sure felt helpful now.

"Don't lean on it, or the roof will sag."

Fuji didn't growl as he wanted to while removing his weight from the pole he hadn't even realized he was leaning on. Tezuka finished securing the tent poles, while Fuji drew angry faces with his toe in the mud. The buchou didn't seem to notice them. Finally, Tezuka gestured that they could get inside and remove the damned ponchos. The tent itself was small, just large enough for the two of them to sit comfortably, thus making it very challenging to remove their wet items without soaking the interior.

Tezuka piled their wet shoes and jackets in a corner, while Fuji tried to busy himself laying out sleeping bags. At least that task wasn't too difficult for such a tensai. Ordinarily he'd be thrilled to have Tezuka more or less captive in these close quarters, but now he just felt awkward. Awkward and paranoid and unable to look at Tezuka who had taken off his glasses to clean them. Well, maybe he could look at him a little while Tezuka was basically blind...

"Cold?" Tezuka asked resetting his glasses. Fuji hadn't realized that he was shivering a little. He'd have to work on that.

"Not really," Fuji lied.

"Your hair's wet." Tezuka grabbed a towel from inside his bag. "Here."

Before Fuji knew it, Tezuka had tossed the towel on the tensai's head and started drying his hair. His reaction was born from long instinct.

"Don't!" Fuji swatted Tezuka and the towel away, making Tezuka start backwards. Fuji felt himself blush, realizing such actions were more reserved for horror movie heroines avoiding bats. On top of everything, Tezuka looked downright shocked. There was one for the record books. "Sorry. It's just ... I can do it. If you do it wrong, it'll frizz and ..." Fuji stopped himself, grabbing the towel back. _Discuss hair care tips; that'll show Tezuka you can be masculine. _

Tezuka gave a wary nod, while Fuji hid his face under the towel to hide the flush in his cheeks. Outside, he could hear the rain slowing to an irregular stacatto. Of course it would, now that they were inside a shelter. Behind his towel curtain, Fuji heard Tezuka rummage through his backpack. "I'm going to go catch us something to eat," Tezuka announced, neither inviting nor discouraging Fuji from joining him. He just gathered his things and left. Typical.

Fuji threw the towel down, drawing his knees up to his chest. This was all just so _wrong_. He was supposed to be a genius, so why couldn't this simple plan just work! Why couldn't he do one thing without leaning on Tezuka's shoulder? Why hadn't anything been the same since that stupid match!

The match.

The best and worst day of Fuji's life. It was supposed to bring them closer together, to resolve the competitive tension that had burned between the two of them since freshmen year. Instead, it created a whole new type of tension that Fuji for all his supposed brilliance didn't understand.

Tension that meant Fuji was sulking alone in a tent which was clearly built to hold two people. Well, enough of that.

Fuji took his damp jacket from the pile, relaced his shoes, and followed Tezuka's footprints to the small stream running a few meters from their tent. Quietly, he sat down next to Tezuka on the tarp the buchou had laid out. Rain erattically dotted the water and tapped a sharp rhythm on the tarp. Tezuka nodded to acknowledge Fuji's presence, but didn't say anything, just tugged on his line a little. Still feeling like crying in frustration and still determined not to, Fuji rested his head on Tezuka's shoulder. After a few moments, Tezuka stopped playing with the reel and moved one arm around Fuji. Rocks jabbed at Fuji through the tarp, but he ignored them as best he could, futilely shifting his weight to find a comfortable position.

They sat in silence for a while, and Fuji pretended that they didn't play tennis. That they didn't need to compete against each other in every activity. It was a nice illusion until he felt something crawling up his arm.

He jumped to slap the insect away, slipping a little on the wet tarp and causing Tezuka to almost drop his fishing pole.

"What?" Tezuka looked alarmed.

"Something bit me!" Fuji snarled, scratching at the tiny red bump on his arm.

"There's lots of mosquitoes up here," Tezuka nodded. "The bug spray I gave you should keep them away, though."

Fuji hid behind his carefree smile. The bug spray smelled like anti-freeze, and Fuji hadn't wanted to spend a romantic weekend with Tezuka smelling like anti-freeze. "It must have washed off in the rain."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. "I have more."

"Ne, I'm fine. As long as we don't get attacked by anything bigger."

"You can handle the bears, right?"

Fuji's eyes opened, incredulous. "Tezuka Kunimitsu, was that a joke?"

"Don't tell anyone." Tezuka returned his attention to the stream, toying with the reel again. Fuji gradually lowered himself back down, eyes scanning the air for more insects. They buzzed over the surface of the water, just waiting for him to drop his guard. "Anyway, I thought you liked animals. You name all your moves after them."

"The counters are special," Fuji said, still scanning the water, "I just prefer my nature in a more civilized environment, preferably through a protective glass plate or behind a fence."

"How are they special?"

Fuji turned to study Tezuka now. Tezuka asking questions? That was new. "You're curious?"

Tezuka shrugged, pulling back on the line. "We have time. I've never actually caught a fish in this river."

Fuji's eyes blinked open. "Never?"

"My grandfather catches fish here all the time, but I haven't. My mother packed us some bentos in case."

"Then ... why do you fish here?"

Tezuka took a moment to consider this. "Because I enjoy it. Tell me about the counters."

"Mn." Of course Tezuka enjoyed fishing here. This river challenged him, gave him competition. Tezuka loved anything that gave him challenge. The day Tezuka caught a fish was the day Tezuka stopped fishing. Fuji shifted on the tarp, rocks jabbing into his leg as he did so; this wasn't the time to mope.

The naming of the counters wasn't a secret, but no one had ever asked him about them before. Not even Eiji who asked about everything. He guessed he should begin with the first. "The counters aren't so much named after animals as for people I associated with animals. Tsubame Gaeshii was for my sister because she always walked Yuuta and I to and from tennis practice. Our old house had these swallows nesting in the eves and Onee-san used to feed them. At least until they laid eggs and started dive-bombing anything in their path. She was the tallest of us, so they usually went after her. Yuuta thought it was terribly funny."

"You didn't, of course."

"Of course not," Fuji smiled. "Higuma Otoshii isYuuta's. My parents took us to the zoo when we were about seven and eight. They had twin grizzly bears there. The smaller one followed the larger one everywhere, trying to get it to play. Eventually the larger one gave in. My parents joked that they acted just like the two of us. At least, how we acted when we were younger..." Fuji trailed off there, not wanting to make this a discussion about his brother.

Tezuka sensed the awkwardness and prompted, "And the Hakugei?"

"My father's favorite book is _Moby Dick._ He has at least fifteen copies in four languages. He used to have a first edition copy worth a great deal of money, but when I was eleven, he had to transfer jobs and my parents didn't have enough money for Yuuta and I to keep taking tennis lessons. He sold it." Fuji shrugged. "We told him not to, but he did anyway. So the Hakugei is ...ouch!"

Fuji smacked another winged attacker away.

"I have bug spray."

"It's fine." Fuji rubbed the spot. "These things are vicious. Maybe I'll name my next counter after a mosquito. There's another one!" He swatted at it before it could land.

"That's a mayfly," Tezuka corrected. "They don't bite."

Fuji sighed, exasperated. "Then I'll name it after a mayfly. It can be your counter."

"Are you working on one?"

Fuji shrugged. "I need something new for Nationals." Not to mention Tezuka had beaten all of his counters ... in a row. Not mentioning that at all.

"Then we should have no problem winning."

Fuji brushed another wet strand of hair off of his forehead, mumbling a half-hearted, "Ah." All his conversations with Tezuka eventually returned to tennis, and tennis just made him more annoyed.

Tezuka at least seemed to notice his downcast eyes, though as usual he had no idea what to do about it. "Did you want to try?" he asked, offering Fuji the pole.

Fuji looked at it as if it were some piece of high-tech dental equipment. He was sure if he touched it, something terrible would happen. He'd snag the line on something or tangle the wire or catch an old boot or something else heinously cliche. "That's okay," he said, smile in place.

Tezuka frowned. "You sure?"

"Quite."

Fuji wrapped his arms around his knees, thus preventing the pole from mysteriously jumping into his hands.

Tezuka scrutinized Fuji's features. "It's okay if you don't know how. I can teach you."

_Damn. _"I'd really rather not. I'm sorry, Tezuka, but I don't think I'm cut out for camping."

Tezuka nodded. "Mn. Then, I apologize."

Fuji's eyes opened. "You apologize? Why?"

Tezuka shifted uncomfortably at being asked to elaborate. "I thought you'd enjoy some time away from everyone. I apologize if I picked the wrong location." Tezuka kept his eyes trained on the bobbing line, not betraying a single emotion.

"Ne, I didn't mean it like that," Fuji said quickly. "You thought I wanted time away?"

Another awkward shrug. "You seemed to be spending a lot of time on your own lately."

"I have?" Fuji supposed that was true. He hadn't exactly been feeling socialite of the year since these damned insecurities started bubbling to the surface. But Tezuka had invited him here to help him?

Tezuka nodded, adjusting his glasses to hide his concern.

Only then did Fuji realize he'd been treating this whole trip as some kind of endurance test: a chance to prove he was better than all of Tezuka's numerous fans and rivals. Instead, this masochistic venture was actually Tezuka's idea of a relaxing vacation? He was being supportive, and Fuji'd spent the whole time shoving Tezuka away. Absolutely tensai.

"Ne, I wasn't trying to avoid you," Fuji began. "I ... just wanted to show you that I could handle things on my own. I didn't want you to start thinking I was weak or anything..." Damn it, how was he supposed to elaborate on this without sounding like a shoujo heroine?

Tezuka's forehead creased. "Why would I start thinking that?"

Fuji mumbled his answer into his knees, forcing Tezuka to ask him to repeat it. "Because you've beaten me now."

He had never seen Tezuka blink that fast before. "This is about the match?"

"Of course. What did you think it was about?" Maybe he'd never _said_ what was bothering him, but Tezuka couldn't expect him to just come out and _say_ everything that was wrong. Honestly...

"I had no idea." Tezuka ran one hand back through his hair, a gesture Fuji thought he'd stopped after their first year in middle school. "I thought maybe you were upset because of the rain."

Fuji cocked his head to one side. He'd almost forgotten the weather. "The rain? We live in Japan. It rains all the time. You've seen me play in the rain a hundred times."

Tezuka shrugged. "I hear it affects some people, and I didn't have any better ideas. You're upset that I won?"

"No." Fuji realized he couldn't sit with his knees up and expect to keep the rocks from jabbing into his tailbone. The sulking pose was out. Moving to a kneel, he continued, "I was just worried, that maybe now that you've beaten me, you wouldn't find me as ...interesting, I guess."

Tezuka's blank stare indicated Fuji's statement contained about as much logic as one of Momoshiro's Engrish t-shirts.

"You like a challenge. Like fishing in a river where you don't catch anything. You'll probably stop fishing here once you've beaten it, ne?"

"Syusuke, you are not a fish." Tezuka didn't once break from his buchou voice.

Fuji laughed in spite of himself. "All right, poor analogy."

For a moment, they sat in silence. Eventually, Tezuka spoke. "People lose. I've lost. That doesn't mean they aren't talented. And though you probably know, that was the most difficult game I've ever played without an injury. Next time we play, it could go very differently."

"You want to play against me again?" Fuji could have kicked himself for how desperate that sounded.

"Of course. Unless it bothers you."

The tensai shook his head so quickly water droplets spotted Tezuka's glasses. Fuji tried to make up for the move by crafting his tone as carefully as he could for his next sentence. "Ne, you still consider me enough of a challenge?" He believed he succeeded in sounding coy and casual instead of as needy as he felt.

Tezuka used the hem of his shirt to wipe off his glasses. "Syusuke, I can honestly say that being with you is _always _a challenge."

For a moment, Fuji was too surprised by the kiss Tezuka stole to analyze the statement. For a moment, he didn't feel the anger or the uncomfortable ground or his damp clothes. For a moment, things were perfect.

And when the moment passed, he punched Tezuka hard on his right shoulder.

"Ow," Tezuka glared in confusion.

"Mosquito," Fuji insisted.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Author's Note: I've come to realize I have a serious problem. In every fic I've written where Tezuka appears, he takes off his glasses at least once. In this one, he does it twice. I'm an anti-megane fangirl._


End file.
